


Jett Stetson's One Hundred Percent Foolproof Heartbreak Cure (Patent Pending)

by poisonivory



Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: Coming Out, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 20:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonivory/pseuds/poisonivory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan knows that a relationship with an irresponsible (and closeted) narcissist like Dak Zevon is a bad idea. So why can't he walk away?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. no one else but us 'til the sun comes up

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to [Dak Zevon's Guide to Fake Dating in Hollywood](http://archiveofourown.org/works/453212/chapters/777807), which you probably don't have to read to follow this one but which does contain the beginning of Dak and Logan's relationship. All the thanks in the world to [queenitsy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/queenitsy/pseuds/queenitsy) for betaing, tough love, and literally letting me email her with "Okay, is this sentence okay? Okay, how about this one?" for a week straight.

Logan knew all about bad ideas.

When Carlos had suggested they play Shopping Cart Jousting on the not-fully-frozen-over lake and Logan had nearly lost a toe to frostbite after falling through the ice, that had been a bad idea.

When James had decided that he was going to set the world record for Most Girls Dated in a Single Day and managed to convince Logan to keep the schedule and tally, thus somehow making _Logan_ the one the girls chased up a tree, where he was stuck for the better part of the evening until the fire department came and got him down, _that_ had been a bad idea.

And when Kendall had come up with a plan to get revenge on their rival peewee hockey team for being cheating scum – a plan that had involved, among other things, breaking and entering, streaking, a very excitable parakeet, operating a speedboat without a license, and a truly obscene number of flaming poop bags – and had only just managed to talk the judge out of sending all four of them to juvie while Logan hyperventilated into a paper bag that hadn’t yet been pooped or flamed, _that_ had been an _exceptionally_ bad idea.

But this…this might be the worse idea yet.

As Logan stared up at the ceiling, wondering, not for the first time, just what he was doing, the bad idea in question walked into the bedroom: Dak Zevon, teen-heartthrob-turned-breakout-action-star, and Logan’s particular bad habit. He was stark naked and holding a cup of coffee in each hand. “Morning.”

Logan grunted and pushed himself up into a seated position, clutching the sheets to make sure he was covered from at least the waist down. Mr. Movie Star might walk around naked, but Logan still changed in the bathroom even when he was home alone. “Crap. I didn’t mean to sleep over.”

“Oh, I slept fine, thanks for asking,” Dak said, handing Logan a mug. “And you?”

Logan flapped an impatient hand at Dak, brushing away his social niceties. “I have class in a couple of hours and I haven’t even done the reading yet. Why didn’t I leave last night?” He definitely remembered planning to, but somewhere between Dak’s couch and Dak’s bed the details got a little fuzzy.

Then again, Dak tended to make his plans go haywire in general. Like his plan never to date anyone in the closet. As someone who believed in honesty – at least once he’d practically tripped and fallen out of the closet himself five years ago, surprisingly precisely no one but himself – he couldn’t picture himself dating someone who was living a lie.

But four months ago Dak had swanned back into his life with his perfect hair and his annoying smile and his elaborately-constructed Hollywood romances. He’d made Logan crazy – but apparently all of Logan’s witheringly sarcastic put-downs had been flirting in disguise, because here Logan was in Dak’s bed, with no very clear idea of how he’d gotten there the first time or why he kept coming back.

At least, Logan told himself, they weren’t _really_ dating, just screwing around.

Strange how that didn’t make him feel any better.

Dak sat down next to Logan, bumping Logan with his hip to make Logan scoot over. “The paparazzi were staking out the house last night, remember? There was no way to get you out of here without being photographed. And then you’d have to explain what you were doing here at two a.m. With _that_.” He poked the hickey on Logan’s neck.

Logan could feel his cheeks heating up. He was a man of science, after all! It was _embarrassing_ that someone could leave him so completely at the mercy of his hormones. “Right,” he said, taking refuge in sarcasm. “Because your ladykiller reputation must be preserved at all costs.”

Dak sighed. “Mitchell, it is too early in the morning for a lecture.” He sipped his coffee, then grinned. “ _But_ it is just early enough to go another round before your class and my press junket.”

Logan shook his head. “No it isn’t. I have reading to do, remember?”

“Come on,” Dak said. He put his coffee down on the nightstand and leaned in, kissing the underside of Logan’s jaw. “We can do it fast.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You sure do know how to sweet talk a girl, Mr. Zevon.”

“Okay, come on, we can do it fast, and, uh…your eyes are like the moon,” Dak said, plucking Logan’s coffee cup from his hand and placing that aside as well. “Better?”

“That doesn’t even make _sense_ ,” Logan protested, but he let Dak kiss him, because Dak was a really good kisser. “Dak, no. I have to do my reading.”

“Skip it,” Dak said.

Logan puffed up indignantly. “I have never in my life not done my homework, and I don’t intend to start – _mmph_ ,” he finished as Dak kissed him again, harder this time.

He glared at Dak. “You’re a jerk, you know.”

Dak smiled triumphantly. “Yeah, but I’m a cute jerk,” he said, and leaned in again. This time Logan let Dak press him back against the mattress, lips and hands moving lower, making him forget for a few minutes that he didn’t know what the hell he was doing here.

Yeah. This was a bad idea. But sometimes it really _felt_ like a good one.

*

Dak whistled as he walked into the green room. Jett looked at him over the top of his magazine, the November issue of _Man Fashion_ , featuring himself on the cover. “You’re in a good mood.”

Dak grinned. “Yes. Yes, I am.” And why not? The sun was shining, he’d gotten laid last night _and_ this morning, and – oh yeah – he was a movie star. Life was pretty damn good.

“Well, I’m glad _you’re_ happy,” Jett said, frowning. “Some of us don’t have your charmed life.”

“What’s wrong?” Dak asked, grabbing a bottle of water and taking the chair opposite Jett.

“In this month’s issue of _Man Fashion_ , I pioneered an innovative new look,” Jett said, turning the magazine around to show Dak the inside spread. “Look at that. _Three_ popped polo collars at once! No one’s ever done that before!” He scowled. “And now people on the internet are saying it’s ‘too much.’ As if anything I do could _ever_ be too much. I mean, really!”

Dak hid a smile. Jett could be ridiculous at times, but he genuinely liked the guy. They’d been through a lot together – basic training in preparation for their World War II drama, _Remember the Memories_ ; the actual filming of the movie; and now the press tour. Like Dak, Jett had been a child actor and a teen heartthrob and was now trying to establish a grown-up acting career. Plus, he was a great drinking buddy. A few histrionics were a small price to pay for a friend Dak could relate to.

“Ignore them,” he said. “Genius is never appreciated in its own time.”

Before Jett could reply, Laura, Dak’s manager, darted into the green room. Laura never _walked_ anywhere – she darted in quick, sudden movements, like an animal that had spotted its prey. Dak was glad she was on his side. “ _There_ you are,” she said, frowning at him. “You’re late. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

Dak had a vague recollection of fumbling for his phone about a half hour ago and shutting it in the nightstand drawer because its ringing was distracting him from what Logan was doing with his tongue. “I got held up.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, well, next time tell him to keep the morning quickies to under five minutes.”

Jett snickered. Laura knew Dak was gay, but as long as he kept it discreet, didn’t know or care who Dak brought home. Jett, however, found Dak’s… _dalliance_ with “Big Time Whatshisface” endlessly amusing.

Dak decided to change the subject. “Any word on the Hatman script, Laura?”

She frowned. “They’ve agreed to send the script over, but I don’t know, kid. They’re telling me you’re too young.”

“What do you mean, too young? It’s an origin story!” Dak said. “It’s based on _Hatman: Year One_ , which is the story of how young Bryce Dane travels to the Himalayas to train himself in the arts of ninjitsu and haberdashery from ages sixteen to twenty-five before returning to Knickerbocker City to avenge his dead parents and fight crime as the Darkknight Derby. I’m twenty-four. What’s the problem?”

Jett blinked. “Wow. You’re a nerd.”

Dak scowled at him, but it was basically true. He owned every Hatman movie and TV show on DVD, he still read _Hatman_ and _Hatman Adventures_ and _Hatman: The Fedora Files_ every month, and as a kid he’d dressed as Hatman six Halloweens in a row. Heck, his first audition had been the open call for the voice of Cappy the Kid Wonder for _Hatman: The Animated Series_ when he was eight. He didn’t get the part, but he did get the acting bug from the experience. And now, a new Hatman franchise when he was exactly the right age to play Bryce Dane? He _needed_ this part. He was _born_ to play this part.

“It’s not how old you _actually_ are,” Laura said. “It’s…come on, Dak. You know what it is. They look at you and they see _Varsity Vampire_.”

“And _Varsity Vampire 2: Game On_ ,” Jett added unhelpfully.

“That’s bull,” Dak protested. “Didn’t I prove I could carry a franchise with _Robobombs?_ ”

“Well, really the giant robots carried that franchise…”

“Jett, I love you like a brother, but I swear to God I will punch you in the face.” Dak turned back to Laura. “What about _Missile Silo?_ What about _Hot Heat?_ ”

“All good movies, all good performances,” Laura said. “But this is a major superhero franchise reboot. They’re looking for someone they know is solid box office. That’s why you’re doing _Remember the Memories_ , remember? To give you serious action movie cred, not just action-comedy.”

“Yeah, but by the time _Memories_ registers they’ll already be casting _Hatman_ ,” Dak said. “Just…get me an audition, Laura. Get me in the door and I’ll do the rest.”

She sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

A gofer stuck his head into the room. “Mr. Zevon? Mr. Stetson? The press is ready for you.”

Jett popped up, checked his reflection in a nearby silver lampshade, and carefully adjusted the angle of his popped collar. “Excellent! Let’s do this.”

Dak stood up more slowly. “Yeah, let’s get this over with,” he said, doing his best to paste on his “I’m Dak Zevon. You love me. You want to let me date your daughter,” smile.

It was funny, but somehow the sun didn’t seem as bright as it had before.

*

Logan stared at his professor, trying to concentrate, but his brain was rejecting the Neurobiology lecture in favor of a far more annoying subject: Dak.

The thing was, Logan _knew_ what his ideal man would be like. He’d be tall and fair and chiseled, his IQ would be almost – but not quite – as high as Logan’s, and he’d love calculus and old school hip hop and the Minnesota Wild. He’d be serious and responsible and comfortable with who he was. And he wouldn’t be in the closet.

Dak was taller than Logan, at least, and more chiseled than usual since he’d gone through basic training for _Remember the Memories_ , but other than that he didn’t have a single thing in common with Logan’s perfect man.

But, Logan reminded himself, that was okay, because he and Dak weren’t _dating_. Logan was too busy for such things, anyway. Once he finished college and medical school and his residency, bought a nice house, and established a 401K, he could think about dating.

Dak would’ve long since gotten sick of him by then. He was a movie star, after all.

In the meantime, Dak would call him after a movie premiere or party, and even though Logan always swore he was through with Dak, he’d invariably end up in Dak’s bed with his principles tossed somewhere on the floor beside his underwear. It was nothing but physical chemistry - Logan was only twenty-two! He had needs! - but something about Dak was like being a kid in Minnesota again, standing at the top of the tallest hill in town with his sled, afraid to fling himself off the edge but too morbidly curious to walk away. It didn’t help that Dak was professionally charismatic; every time he smiled Logan edged closer to the slope, not sure he’d survive but willing to take the chance for the thrill that came with it.

And honestly, Dak was actually kind of nice to be around sometimes, and not just in bed. He was fairly well-informed for someone who’d gone to school in an on-set trailer his whole life. He always remembered that Logan was allergic to shellfish, and ordered food accordingly. And despite his new action star persona, sometimes Logan caught him singing showtunes while puttering around the house, and it made him think that he might like to see Dak for more than just ill-advised romps between the sheets.

...Until they inevitably start bickering, or Dak started going on about the girls he was pretending to date and the stories he was spinning in the press. Then Logan was glad he didn’t have time to _actually_ date Dak, because he didn’t need that kind of headache.

It was better this way. Really.

Logan stared at the overheard projector. Maybe if he thought that a hundred times a day, he could convince himself.

“Uh, excuse me?”

Logan jumped, startled. The lecture was over, and the hall was empty – except for him, zoning out in the aisle seat, and the guy who’d been sitting a few seats down and was now trying to get past him.

“Oh, sorry! Sorry,” Logan said, trying to snatch up his notebook and textbook and turn his legs to the side at the same time. “I, uh…I kind of zoned out there.”

The guy smiled as he slid by. “Yeah, I noticed. You looked pretty bummed. You okay?”

Logan forced a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I just…didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

“I hear ya.” For some reason the guy didn’t head out of the lecture hall; he just stood there waiting as Logan shoved his books into his messenger bag. “I’m Chris, by the way. Chris Yu.”

Logan tried to sling his bag onto his shoulder, got caught up in the strap, and nearly fell. “Uh. Logan Mitchell.”

“Yeah, I know.” Logan looked up in surprise and Chris smiled. “My sister was a huge Big Time Rush fan.”

“Oh.” Logan felt his cheeks heating up. So few people recognized him nowadays that he often forgot he’d once been famous. “Not you?”

Chris shrugged as they headed for the door. “I’ve always been more into hip hop. Sorry.”

Logan smiled. “Hey, me too! You know, I know Snoop Dogg. Well, I mean, I met him once,” he amended.

“Cool,” Chris said. He held the classroom door open for Logan. “Hey, I need caffeine. Are you going by the student center?”

Logan thought wistfully of the coffee Dak had brought him, a hard-to-find specialty blend Dak had bought up when Logan mentioned he liked it, and which was now sitting ice cold and abandoned on Dak's nightstand. "Yeah," he said. "Coffee would be great."

Chris, it turned out, was easy to talk to. Logan didn’t usually socialize all that much with his classmates due to a combination of dedication to his studies and his supreme awkwardness around his peers. If Carlos hadn’t declared them best friends in third grade and introduced him to Kendall and James, he probably would’ve been a social outcast all through childhood and adolescence. And he wouldn’t have traded his current friends for the world – but it was nice to be able to talk to someone who was legitimately interested in the same things he was.

“So are you pre-med too?” Chris asked as they got in line at the coffee kiosk.

Logan nodded. “Yeah, I’m looking at med schools now.” He didn’t mention that he’d been revising his applications to his top ten choices every year since he was nine. For some reason that seemed to weird people out. “I’m hoping to go into surgery. Maybe cardiology. You?”

“Well, I won’t really know for sure until I do my rotations, but I’m leaning towards psychiatry,” Chris said. “Maybe neurology. If I can pass the final, of course. Large black coffee, please,” he told the woman behind the counter.

Logan shook his head. “Tell me about it. Hey, maybe we should study together.” It was only November and there were three weeks before the final, but it was never too early to start studying.

Chris brightened. He was actually pretty cute when he did that, Logan noted distantly. “Sure, that’d be great.” He paused. “Or…maybe we could talk about the class over dinner Friday night?”

Logan wasn’t sure how much they’d have to say about a neurobiology class over a whole meal, but he hadn’t really been paying attention to the last lecture, so maybe he was missing something. “Yeah, okay. Let me get your number?”

“Absolutely,” Chris said, beaming. He waited until Logan took out his phone, then rattled off his number while paying for his coffee.

“Same for me,” Logan told the cashier as she handed Chris his drink. He saved Chris as a new contact and hit Send. A minute later Chris’s phone started playing “Can’t You See?” from somewhere in the vicinity of his pants pocket. “Okay, now you’ve got my number too.”

“Excellent,” Chris said, smiling at Logan like he’d done something clever. He pulled his phone out to silence the ringer. “Oh, crap, is that the time? I’ve gotta get to my next class.” He looked back up at Logan. “I’m really sorry to run off like this. But I’ll call you, okay? And I’ll see you on Friday!”

“See you!” Logan called as Chris hurried out of the room. Huh. Chris was a nice guy, but he sure seemed a little too excited over two guys getting together over dinner on a Friday night to discuss…a neurobiology…lecture…

“Holy crap, he just asked me out, didn’t he?” Logan said aloud.

“He certainly did, dear,” the women behind the register said, handing him his coffee.

Whoops.


	2. i got these feelings can't let them show

Dak’s day might have started out good, but it seemed determined not to stay there. The press junket went on for a good hour after his smile started to feel strained and the questions went from inane to unspeakably stupid. Then he and Jett were turned loose, only to be hurried over to the set of _Tinseltown Talk_ , TV’s premiere gossiptainment show, to film an interview.

Chloe LeChloe met them there. She played Jett’s love interest in the film, a spunky-yet-innocent girl from the French village that Dak's and Jett’s characters’ squadron saved. This was her first Hollywood film after a few years of Very Important black-and-white French films about longing where everyone smoked a lot, and already Hollywood was buzzing over her. Dak personally knew several screenwriters who were inserting spunky French protagonists into their chick flicks and romcoms. The fact that Chloe was American by birth and had lived in Iowa until she was 14 didn’t seem to make much difference to them.

Jett, true to form, had promptly started dating her. Which was why, after a few desultory questions about the movie and basic training, _Tinseltown Talk_ host Brett Badgers completely tuned out Dak in favor of interviewing the lovebirds.

“So, Jett and Chloe, I hear sparks flew between you two on the set?” he asked, as if Jett and Chloe weren’t sitting practically in each other’s laps on the interviewee couch, holding hands. Dak perched uncomfortably on Jett’s other side and tried not to look at his watch.

Chloe blushed on cue, a skill that was only useful for girls. “Oh, _mai oui_ ,” she admitted. “Jett was, how you say, _trés charmant_. Eet was like I was not acting at all when I looked into hees eyes.” She gazed up at Jett.

Dak tried not to snort. Funny how Chloe didn’t seem to have an accent when there were no cameras or reporters around.

Badgers turned to Jett. “Jett, you’ve dated every single one of your costars in the past. Is this different for you?”

“I sure hope so, Brett,” Jett said with marvelous vulnerability. “I’ve had a lot of heartbreak in the past, but this time I think my little snugglebunny here might just be the one.” He squeezed Chloe’s shoulders.

It went on like that for the rest of the interview. Dak managed to answer a couple of questions, but for the most part he sat there and resented his costars. After all, he was first-billed – shouldn’t _he_ be the focus of the interview?

It wasn’t that he begrudged Jett his happiness. Because that was the thing – this wasn’t a dramatic bout of fake dating, which was what Jett’s romances with his costars usually were. Jett and Chloe really were an item, and Jett really did seem crazy about her. Dak didn’t expect it to last any more than any of Jett’s previous relationships had lasted, but beneath all the cooing and the exaggerated French accenting and the snugglebunnying, there was genuine romance. Jett really could put his arm around the girl he loved and tell the world, “This is the person who makes me happy. This is who I belong to.”

Not that Dak wanted to do that or anything. He didn’t even _like_ girls!

Still, he sulked.

After the interview wrapped, he washed his face, waved goodbye to Jett and Chloe, and got into the back of his car. Laura was waiting for him with a protein smoothie, which he accepted gratefully. He’d only managed to snatch a few bites of lunch during makeup for the interview, and he was starving.

“Where to, boss?” his driver Carl asked.

“Home,” Dak said. He looked at Laura. “Home, right? Please say home.”

She shook her head. “Sorry. We’ve got radio interviews until three and then an appearance at the Veterans’ Center.”

So no real break. Dak took a sip of his smoothie and sighed. “Do we at least have time to grab a pizza? I’m in the mood for pizza.”

“You can’t have pizza, you have a shirtless photoshoot tomorrow,” Laura said. “Wait until after the premiere. Which is actually what I need to talk to you about.”

“Post-premiere pizza?” Dak asked. “I’m thinking mushrooms and spinach, but we can get something else if you want.”

“Focus,” she said. “We need to decide who you’re taking to the premiere before I fly back east for Thanksgiving. Jett will be with Chloe and they’ll get a lot of attention, so you’ll need someone good if you want to turn any heads.”

Dak really didn’t want to deal with this right now, especially since he had no Thanksgiving plans to speak of besides a late night appearance the night before. “Just get me the biggest rising starlet under thirty.”

“That’s Chloe, Camille, or that eight-year-old who plays the lead in _Princess Buttercup Saves the Ponies_ ,” Laura said, ticking them off on her fingers.

“Is she seeing anyone?”

“ _Dak._ ” Laura was clearly not in a joking mood. “This is serious.”

Dak dropped his head back against the seat and shut his eyes. “Is it really? It’s not like I’m actually going to be _dating_ my date. Just pick out a supermodel who’s four inches shorter than me like you always do.”

“Not this time, kid,” Laura said. “It’s gotta be someone good.”

Something in her voice made Dak open his eyes and look at her. “Why? What’s the big deal about this premiere?”

She met his gaze steadily. “There’s a blind item.”

“Oh, for the love of - ”

“ _What former teen heartthrob would rather be cozying up to his male costars than the vampy models he’s seen with?_ ” Laura read off her phone.

Dak rolled his eyes. “That could be Jett.”

“Which isn’t actually any other better for you, since _you’re_ his male costar.”

“Or it could be plenty of other guys!”

“ _Vampy_ , Dak,” Laura said. “They’re targeting you.”

He shook his head. “I’m discreet. You know I am. There’s always gonna be gay rumors about me, just because I can sing and dance and twelve-year-old girls think I’m dreamy.”

“I know. But it doesn’t help that you haven’t had a serious relationship for a while,” she said.

Dak blinked in confusion. He hadn’t had a serious relationship in _years_ , not since he’d landed his _Varsity Vampire_ role and broken up with his then-boyfriend before any photos could surface. The steadiest thing he’d had since Trevor had slammed his way out the door had been Logan, and even then the steady thing wasn’t the relationship but Logan himself. But why would sex on the regular with an ex-boybander help him fight gay rumors?

Then he realized what Laura meant. “Oh, no. I’m not playing that game again.”

“Look, just _call_ Jo and see if she wants to go out on a fake date with you,” she said. “I hear she just booked a sitcom. She probably wants the buzz.”

“No way. Jo’s way too wholesome. Fake dating her felt so sleazy the last time,” Dak protested. “Plus, her dad scares me.”

“Okay, how about Lucy Stone?” Laura asked.

“ _She_ scares me.”

“Camille?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Um, I don’t know if you heard, but she’s kind of seeing someone. I sort of did a matchmaking thing there, it was a big deal...”

“You don’t have to _really_ fake date her,” Laura said. “Just, you know, be seen getting coffee with her, plant a few photos of her looking distressed and James looking angry in the tabloids. Make it look like there might be something going on. They’re your friends! I’m sure they’d be happy to do you a favor.”

“Friends don’t ask friends to pretend to be having an affair with you!” Dak said. “James and Camille are good together. I’m not messing with that, real _or_ fake.” He swirled the straw around in his smoothie, breaking up a frozen chunk. “Besides, Logan would kill me.”

“Who?”

“The guy I’m seeing. Sort of seeing. It’s complicated.” Dak looked out the window. “Anyway, he’s James’s best friend. And he doesn’t like all this...pageantry.”

“Well, that’s too bad for him, because pageantry is kind of _your job_ ,” Laura snapped. “And you have to let me do mine, which is keeping _you_ from looking bad.”

“Oh, so now being gay is bad?” Dak demanded.

“In Hollywood, yeah!” Laura replied. “It’s not enough to go out there and say your lines and smile pretty for the camera. You know that. You’ve got to play the game, kid, and part of that game means giving the world a red-blooded, heterosexual heartthrob for their action flicks. I’m sure this Logan of yours is a real prize, but if he’s keeping you from making the image you want, you should seriously consider whether those morning quickies are worth not getting your footprints on Hollywood Boulevard.”

But that was the whole _point_ of what he had with Logan - to be able to fool around with someone great _without_ losing his shot at mainstream stardom. If he had to sneak around and hide his sexuality and _still_ couldn’t transition out of one-note teen heartthrob status, he might as well go ahead and throw his career away by dating Logan publicly. If Logan would even have him.

Dak wasn’t willing to make that compromise, though, not yet. He’d beaten the odds once by becoming famous; he could do it again by having it all.

“Just get me a model to walk the red carpet with,” he said.

“Dak...”

“Not this time, okay?” he said. “We can talk up my work with veterans or all the stunts I did, fight the gay rumors that way. And I’ll figure out some big romantic drama for the tabloids. Just...not now.”

Laura opened her mouth to say something, paused, then closed it. “Fine,” she said. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Dak leaned against the door and watched the tinted windows go by in the opposite direction. He’d been able to make audiences believe he was a basketball-playing vampire, a rookie cop, and a friend to giant transforming robots. Surely he could make them believe he was one hundred percent straight without having an actual fake girlfriend on his arm.

He hoped.

*

Logan was so buried in schoolwork that when the phone rang he yelped and dropped his textbook on the floor. Heart racing, he grabbed for his phone. “Hello?”

“Come over.”

Logan sighed. “Dak, I can’t. I didn’t do any work last night _or_ this morning, and now I’m totally behind.”

“Who cares? Come over.”

“I care!” Logan said, bristling. “You _know_ how important this semester is for my med school applications, and…”

“Okay, okay, fine. Bring your stuff over here, then. You can study here.”

“Yeah, and how’s that gonna work out?” Logan asked, picking up his textbook and finding his place again. “I bring the textbook to bed with me? I don’t think I’m going to retain a lot about neurobiology that way.”

“We don’t have to screw around,” Dak said. “Or we can do it later. Whatever. Just…come over.”

Logan paused. He’d never gone to Dak’s without ending up in bed with him almost immediately. Sure, they did other things – eat takeout, watch TV, bicker – but never until after a roll in the hay. Was Dak seriously inviting him over for something other than a booty call?

He really shouldn’t go. Even if Dak kept his hands off, studying anywhere but Logan’s ergonomic setup resulted in a 7.9% loss of fact retention. Logan knew; he’d tracked it. But Dak sounded…well, a bit forlorn.

“Come on,” Dak said when Logan didn’t answer. “We can order from that grody barbecue place you like. We can even watch hockey. I think. Is it hockey season?”

Logan fought a smile. “Yeah, it’s hockey season.”

“Well, there you go. Come on. Please?”

For the life of him, Logan couldn’t remember Dak ever saying “please” before.

“...Okay, fine,” he said. “Just let me pack up my stuff.” He started packing up his desk, glancing at his To Do list to see what he needed to bring with him. His gaze fell upon #6: _Cancel with Chris_. “Oh, and I have to call and cancel this thing on Friday.”

“What thing?”

“Just a date.” Logan searched the desk for his calculator, didn’t spot it, and bent to check under the desk. There was silence on the other end of the line. “Hello?”

“You have a date on Friday?” Dak asked.

“Yeah, this guy in my neurobiology class. I kind of said yes by accident.” There was the calculator, behind the leg of his desk chair. Logan stuffed it in his bag.

“How do you say yes by accident?”

“Well, I didn’t realize he’d been asking me out until he’d already…look, does it matter?” Logan asked. “I’m canceling it anyway.”

“Fine. Do you need directions here?” Dak asked. “I would want you to _accidentally_ end up at some other guy’s house.”

Logan frowned. “What’s with the attitude?”

“I don’t have an attitude.”

“Well, you’re acting all weird and jealous.”

Dak laughed. “Trust me. I’m not jealous.”

That stung. “You know, because _you’re_ the one who’s always gallivanting around town with supermodels, and I never say anything about it,” Logan pointed out.

“Like hell you don’t!” Dak retorted. “You give me crap about fake dating all the time!”

“Well, yes, okay, I do actually do that,” Logan admitted. “But that’s because it’s fake, not because it’s dating. At least _mine_ was an actual accidental date.”

Dak groaned. “Oh, don’t start this again. Not today. You have no idea what I - look, I’m not coming out just to appease your delicate sensibilities, Logan, so stop asking.”

“It has nothing to do with me!” Logan said. “I don’t need you to dedicate your Teen Choice Awards to me or whatever. I just don’t believe in living a lie.”

“Well, good for you that you’re not,” Dak said. “I’m an actor, though. Living a lie is what I _do_.”

“Yeah, well, even Camille can tell the difference between acting and real life,” Logan muttered.

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m not your high school beard…”

“You leave her out of this!”

“ _You_ brought her up!”

“And _you’re_ making me want to go on that date,” Logan said, glaring at his To Do list.

“Fine.”

Logan blinked. “What?”

“Go,” Dak said. “It’s not like we’re actually dating, right? Go on a date. Enjoy. Have fun with your little doctor friend.”

“Pre-med undergrad.”

“Whatever.”

Logan frowned. “Fine. I will. And I’m sure we’ll have a very nice time.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

“I know you’re glad.”

“I know you know I’m glad.”

“I know you know I know you – ” Logan stopped himself. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Fi – ” Logan stopped himself again and hung up, then chucked the phone at the bed. He took a breath and tried to calm himself.

So what if Dak was being a jerk? That wasn’t Logan’s problem – it wasn’t like he was Dak’s boyfriend or anything, as Dak had made patently clear. Not that he even wanted to be – he had enough trouble dealing with Dak’s issues as things were.

No. He was going to go on a date with Chris on Friday, and he was going to have a good time. And more importantly, he wouldn’t have to head to the restaurant after midnight via the backroads so that no one saw them together, or talk about Chris in code to his friends in case paparazzi were lurking. He could have a nice, normal evening – and maybe even a nice, normal relationship.

“So there, Dak Zevon,” he said, and turned back to his books.

But try as he might, he didn’t get a lick of studying done for the rest of the night.


	3. don't leave me out on the floor

“It’s really not that big a deal,” Logan said.

James held a blue shirt up in front of Logan, shook his head, and replaced it with a red one. “Of course it is! You’re going to _Le Foode_. That’s a _very_ hip restaurant, and I need you to look good.”

Logan raised his eyebrows. He’d regretted telling James about his date as soon as the words had come out of his mouth, but now that James had insisted on coming over and dressing him like a Ken doll, he _really_ regretted it. Since James had gotten serious about Camille, he seemed to take his friends’ romantic failures as a personal affront, and with Kendall and Carlos stuck in classes at Minnesota University until Thanksgiving break, Logan was the only one left for James to fuss over. “ _You_ need _me_ to look good?”

“Yes! I’m in the running for _Man Fashion’s_ Most Stylish Man of the Year, and I am _not_ letting Jett Stetson and his popped collars beat me,” James said. He picked one of Logan’s ties up off his tie rack, made a face at it, and tossed it in the wastebasket. “I can’t have one of my best friends sweater vesting it up at Le Foode and making me look bad. What if someone sees you?”

“Hey, I liked that tie,” Logan protested. “And I like sweater vests!”

“Too bad. Are these your only jackets?” James stuck his head into the closet. Logan’s neatly organized clothing started flying across the room.

“I just alphabetized those!” Logan said, snagging a cardigan in midair.

James glanced at him. “You alphabetize your clothes?” He shook his head and dove back into the closet. “Besides, don’t you want to look good? You haven’t been on a real date in ages. Banging Dak doesn’t count.”

“Could you not call it ‘banging’?”

James didn’t turn around, but Logan could tell from his tone that he was rolling his eyes. “Okay, fine, _making love_ to Dak doesn’t count.”

Logan winced. “It’s not that either.”

Now James turned around. “Hey, what’s the matter, little buddy?” he asked, looking genuinely concerned.

“Nothing,” Logan said quickly. “I just don’t want to talk about Dak right now. And I’m seven months older than you.”

James grinned. “Yes, but you’re so wee!” He patted the top of Logan’s head for emphasis, then pointed to the bathroom. “Now get in there and put on your tightest jeans!”

Logan picked the jeans in question out of the mess on his floor and trudged off to the bathroom. He sighed as he changed. He might not want to talk about Dak, but it was hard not to think about him. They hadn’t spoken in two days, but Dak’s face was everywhere – on TV, on magazine covers, on an enormous billboard for _Remember the Memories_ that Logan had to drive past every day on the way to class.

Last night had been the worst, though. James, who had recorded the title song for _Remember the Memories_ , had held a house party for the music video premiere. James’ contribution to the video turned out to consist of him belting out a ballad full of grief and regret while naked and wrapped in the American flag. This rather bizarre form of patriotism was intercut with Dak and Jett running through a meadow wearing all white, plus a few choice scenes from the movie – Dak doing pushups in basic training, Jett crawling up the beach at Normandy, Dak and Jett holding hands as they ran into a hail of gunfire together.

It was the most homoerotic thing Logan had ever seen, and Logan had _actually had sex with Dak_. But the fact that the video made the movie look like a very explodey musical about Dak and Jett’s old timey romance didn’t make Logan feel any better about his last conversation with Dak. Nor did James and Camille cuddled up next to him on the couch, making out and ignoring their guests.

It wasn’t like Logan missed Dak or anything. For one thing, it had only been two days. But it was hard to stop replaying last argument over in his mind when he couldn’t get away from Dak. Or when his ex-girlfriend and his best friend were so in love he was mildly embarrassed for them.

It was only a week until _Remember the Memories_ premiered, he told himself. Then Dak would stop the press tour, and Logan would stop being confronted with Dak’s face every time he turned on the TV.

“Yo! Logan! Did you fall in?” James called from the other side of the door.

Logan blinked and remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He zipped his fly and opened the door. “Ta da?”

James looked him over. “Oh, no, those are not nearly tight enough.” He yanked them down before Logan could stop him. “Go put those in the dryer! And then maybe think about doing a few squats?”

Logan glared at him, stepped out of his jeans, and marched them off to the laundry room. This had better be one hell of a date.

*

Le Foode was one of the nicest restaurants Logan had ever eaten in. The décor was elegant, the wait staff was stunningly attractive, and even the tap water tasted amazing. Their table was small and intimate, tucked into a cozy, candlelit corner of the ivy-garlanded courtyard, and from inside the restaurant proper, someone was playing the violin superbly.

The atmosphere was perfect. And Logan couldn’t think of a thing to say.

“So…this is nice,” he said for the third time.

“Yep,” Chris replied.

They lapsed into silence again, looking over the menus. “Have you ever eaten here before?” Logan asked.

“No, but I hear the food is really good,” Chris said.

More silence. “I, uh, I think I’ll have the chicken,” Chris ventured.

“Chicken’s good,” Logan said, relieved that Chris had started this round of conversation. “Good old chicken. Bawk bawk bawk. You know.”

“Um, yeah.”

Their waitress arrived then, much to Logan’s relief. “Are you ready to order, gentlemen?” she asked.

“Yes, I’ll have the chicken,” Chris said.

“And I’ll have the steak salad,” Logan said. 

“How would you like that cooked?”

“Medium. Oh, and dressing on the side, please.”

“You got it.” She started to leave.

“Oh, and no onions,” Logan said quickly.

“No onions.” She turned away again.

“Oh! And, uh, could we get some more bread?” Logan picked up the bread basket and turned it over to show that they’d eaten all the bread. The cloth napkin inside fell out, and he scrambled to pick it up off the floor. “We, uh, we ate all the bread.”

“No problem,” she said, taking the basket and taking off before he could ask her anything else.

Logan sighed and sat back. He was back to thinking of things to talk to Chris about. They’d already exhausted hip-hop (Chris liked most of the same artists that Logan did but didn’t have much to say about them), school (it was hard), and the weather (it was L.A., so…seventy-two degrees all day, every day). Chris was going home to Boston for Thanksgiving; Logan was staying in L.A. They both liked turkey. Neither one cared for cranberry sauce. Go Raiders. And so on.

Logan was beginning to suspect that going on a date with someone who had all the same interests as you was not, in fact, always very interesting.

Chris adjusted his silverware so that it was perfectly lined up. “So…” he started.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” a voice beside them asked.

Logan glanced up at the waiter. “Sorry, the waitress already took our ord—”

Then he froze. Standing there dressed as a waiter, complete with bowtie, apron, and obviously fake mustache, was Dak Zevon.

“More bread?” Dak asked.

“The waitress is already getting us bread, I think,” Chris said. He didn’t seem to recognize Dak. “Thank you, though.”

“Then can I get you more water?” Dak asked. “New silverware? A more comfortable chair?”

Logan managed to get his mouth moving again. “ _No thank you, we’re fine,_ ” he managed to grit out. What on earth was going on here?

“Oh, good,” Dak said, beaming. “Well, I’ll be back if you think of anything else you need.” He trotted off.

Logan gaped after him, then stood up. “Excuse me, I have to use the bathroom,” he told Chris, and hurried after Dak.

He caught him in the hallway between the bathrooms and the kitchen. “Dak!” he hissed, and Dak froze. “What are you _doing_ here? Are you _spying_ on me?”

Dak drew himself up haughtily. “Of course not! I’m doing research!”

“Research?” Logan repeated.

“For my next audition,” Dak said.

“You told me your next audition was for _Hatman_ ,” Logan pointed out. “Hatman is not a waiter.”

“No, but he _is_ a master of disguise,” Dak pointed out, tapping his mustache.

Logan shook his head. “Whatever. Look, you have to get out of here. I’m on a date!”

“Oh, is that tonight?” Dak said, eyes wide and innocent.

“You know perfectly well it’s tonight!”

“I had totally forgotten. Is that your date?” Dak asked. “I thought he was, like, your great-uncle or much-older professor or something.”

“Chris is my age and you know it,” Logan snapped. “Now _leave_.”

“I will. When I’m done with my research,” Dak replied. “Shouldn’t you get back to your table? Your ‘date’ will be waiting.”

“I heard those scare quotes!” Logan said. Glaring, he turned on his heel and marched back to his table.

“Everything okay?” Chris asked as he sat down.

“Yeah. Sorry. Everything’s fine,” Logan said, trying to calm himself. Let Dak run around the restaurant making a fool of himself. Logan was just going to ignore him. 

He made himself focus on Chris. “So, what’s your first choice for medical school?” he asked.

“You said you needed water, right?”

Logan glared up at Dak, who had appeared at their table again, this time holding a brimming pitcher of ice water. “We’re _fine_.”

Dak pointed to Chris’s glass, which was maybe one-quarter empty. “You look like you’re getting low there, buddy. Let me top you off.” He reached between them and started pouring. “So it looks like you two are on a date, huh? How’s that working out for you?”

“Uh, fine, I guess,” Chris said. “Hey, look out, you’re overfilling the glass—!”

“What’s that?” Dak asked, looking down, even as he kept pouring so that the glass overflowed. Cold water flooded the tablecloth and Chris’s lap.

Chris yelped and jumped up. “Oh, I am so sorry, sir!” Dak said, whipping the white dish towel from off his shoulder and handing it to Chris. “That looks pretty bad, doesn’t it?” He nodded at Chris’ soaked lap.

“You think?” Chris asked. Other diners were starting to stare at them. Logan felt his face heat up.

“Why don’t you go to the bathroom and try to dry off a bit?” he suggested. He glared at Dak. “And why don’t _you_ go help some _other_ table?”

He must’ve looked really angry, because Dak took off, and Chris squished awkwardly towards the bathroom. While he waited for Chris to get back, Logan tried to mop up some of the water with his napkin, stewing internally. What was Dak’s problem? Did he think this was charming? Because this was definitely _not_ charming.

Chris returned a few minutes later, looking damp and uncomfortable. “I’m so sorry about all this,” Logan said as Chris sat down.

“Don’t be,” Chris said, obviously trying to put a good face on things. “It’s not your fault.”

It kind of was – or at least, Dak wouldn’t be there acting like an _idiot_ if it wasn’t for Logan – but Logan didn’t want to say so. For one thing, he really didn’t want to explain his relationship with Dak, whatever it was, to Chris; for another, the last thing he needed was to blow Dak’s cover and have the restaurant descend into chaos as he was mobbed.

“So what were you saying about med school?” Chris asked.

Before Logan could answer, their waitress arrived with their food. “Here you go, gentlemen,” she said, placing a beautifully golden quarter chicken on a bed of spinach in front of Chris, and a truly enormous plate of salad in front of Logan, deep burgundy strips of steak lying like spokes on a bed of dark greens, walnuts, and crumbled bleu cheese.

“Thank you,” Logan said, then frowned at his salad. “Oh, uh…the dressing?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that,” she said. “Let me get it for you.”

“Thanks.”

The waitress hurried off. Logan started picking at his salad anyway, just to give himself something to do.

“That looks great,” Chris said.

“Yeah, so does yours. This is a nice place,” Logan replied.

The awful silence descended again, and since they weren’t really eating yet, just picking, they didn’t even have the excuse of being busy. Logan cleared his throat. “So, um…do you like…hockey?”

Chris shrugged. “Sure, it’s okay,” he said. “Do you like basketball?”

“Sure, it’s okay,” Logan said.

“Hmm.” Chris nodded slightly and ate a single wilted spinach leaf.

Behind Chris, another waiter rolled a huge cake out to the table next to theirs and presented it to an older couple, who appeared to be celebrating their anniversary. The other people at their table – their children and grandchildren, Logan assumed – smiled and clapped.

Logan sighed, abruptly lonely.

“Listen, Logan,” Chris began, looking uncomfortable. Well, more uncomfortable than he already looked. “You’re a really nice guy, but…”

With a rush of relief Logan realized what Chris was trying to say. “It’s not working, is it?”

Chris looked equally relieved. “No, it’s not.”

“Oh man. Thank God,” Logan said, laughing. “I’m so glad you agree.”

Chris laughed too. “Yeah, no, there’s absolutely no chemistry happening here.”

“None!”

It was like a huge load had been lifted off Logan’s shoulders. He didn’t have to try to make this work anymore! He didn’t have to pretend to be enjoying the date! He could just eat his salad and have a nice conversation with a classmate. He grinned at Chris, suddenly enjoying the evening for the first time.

“Did someone order a side of salad dressing?” someone said. Very loudly.

Logan turned. Dak was quick-marching towards them, holding a small bowl of dressing aloft. Logan had just enough time to take in the forced smile on Dak’s face, as Dak stumbled forward and the bowl left his hand…

…and splat! The dressing smacked Logan in the face.

“Gah!” Logan yelped, reeling back. He jumped up, groping for his napkin as it fell from his lap, and swiped it across his face.

Then he opened his eyes. Big mistake – the dressing was citrus-based, some of it was still in his eyes, and it _stung_.

“What is _wrong_ with you?” he demanded of Dak. “Are you out of your mind?”

For the first time Dak’s unflappably mischievous demeanor faltered. “Uhhhh…let me get you some more napkins,” he said, stumbling backwards – 

\- into their actual waitress, who was hurrying forward with another bowl of dressing to see what was going on.

Dak crashed into her. She stumbled left. The dressing flew from her hand and _splat!_ \- landed on Logan’s head.

Dak stumbled right. And straight into the anniversary cake.

The courtyard erupted into chaos. People stood up to see what was going on; flashes popped as they took pictures on their phones. One of the anniversary grandkids started crying. Chris attempted to mop Logan off with _his_ napkin.

Dak, meanwhile, was struggling to extricate himself from the cake, where he was wedged butt-deep. His elbow skidded on a frosting rosette and he went down, taking the table with him in a loud jangle of candles and silverware. The top tier of the cake slid grandly down to break over his head.

The manager stormed into the room. _“What is going on out here?”_ he demanded.

Everyone looked at Dak, who gave Logan one helpless look. “That’s my cue,” he said, scrambled to his feet, and bolted.

*

Dak wiped himself down with napkins as best he could, but he wanted to make sure he made it to Logan’s before Logan did, so he didn’t go home and shower. Instead he waited on Logan’s doorstep, frosting drying itchily in his hair and under his collar, until the lights of Logan’s car shone into the driveway.

Logan paused only briefly when he saw Dak. “I’m not talking to you,” he said. His hair was clean, if damp and deflated, but the collar and shoulders of his shirt were stained and splattered with dressing. He looked exhausted.

Dak stood up. “Logan, I’m sorry.”

“That’s _it?_ You’re _sorry?_ ” Logan repeated, apparently forgetting that he wasn’t talking to Dak. “After a stunt like that? What were you even _thinking?_ ”

“What was _I_ thinking? What were _you_ thinking?” Dak asked. “That guy was totally boring.”

“Oh, no,” Logan said, unlocking his front door. “No, we are _not_ doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“You _told_ me to go on that date!” Logan cried, turning around, the key forgotten in the lock.

“I never thought you’d actually go!” Dak protested.

“And _I_ never thought you’d _stalk_ me,” Logan said.

“I wasn’t stalking you,” Dak said quickly. “I told you, I was doing research.”

Logan raised his eyebrows.

“Okay, _maybe_ I was following you a little,” Dak admitted. “But I was just looking out for you! He could’ve been a whackjob!”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he could’ve been the kind of lunatic who dresses up like a waiter and follows his friends on their dates.”

Dak paused. “Friends?”

“I mean, what were you _thinking?_ ” Logan went on, steamrolling past Dak’s pause. “‘Oh, look at me, I’m Dak Zevon, I get everything I want…’”

“I don’t – ” Dak tried to say, but Logan kept going with his totally inaccurate imitation.

“‘…I’m going to ruin Logan’s first chance in ages of having a nice, normal evening with a nice, normal guy who will actually hold my hand in public!’” The “imitation” fell apart as Logan ended on a shout. Color blazed in his cheeks.

Dak frowned. “That’s what you want? Public hand-holding? I thought we weren’t doing that kind of thing.”

Logan snorted. “Not with _you_. I mean with a real person.”

It was the off-handedness of the comment that stung the worst. Dak could only blink in wounded surprise at Logan, speechless.

Logan softened slightly. “Oh, don’t give me that face. _You’re_ the one in the closet.”

The old argument jumpstarted Dak’s mouth into working again. “Not this again!”

“Yes, this again!” Logan snapped, the softness gone.

Dak scowled. “Look, Mitchell, we’ve been through this a million times. I’m not throwing my career away to appease your notions of gay honor or whatever.”

“Look, _Dakariah Zeverman_ , there are out actors,” Logan retorted. “Lots of them. Some quite successful.”

Not for the first time, Dak regretted telling Logan his real name. “Yeah, but none of them are trying to overcome the teen heartthrob thing right now. Do you know what kind of roles I’d be stuck with if I came out?”

“You’d still be working!” Logan pointed out.

“Yeah?” Dak folded his arms. “What if you could be a doctor but you could only…could only do _proctology?_ ”

Logan made a face. “Okay, fair, if unnecessarily pointed.” He shook his head as if trying to shake Dak’s argument out of it. “But wouldn’t it be worth it? To feel comfortable in your own skin for once? To be…to be a role model for, what, thousands of kids?” He waved his hands vaguely towards the street, as if the sexually confused youth of the world were waiting there for Dak to march in a pride parade. “To walk down the street with the person you love and not have to hide it?”

Part of Dak did think it sounded nice. The rest of him knew it was a pipe dream. “That’s sweet, Logan, but as much as I like morning quickies, if it’s a choice between you and my career, I’m gonna pick my career.”

“Well, then I don’t know what you want from me!” Logan exploded. “You can’t tell me you don’t care about me and then stalk me on dates!”

Dak threw up his hands in frustration. “I didn’t _say_ I don’t care about you, I said I don’t care about you _that much_.”

“Oh, well that makes it all better,” Logan said.

Whoops. “Look, my job is who I am,” Dak said. “That’s just how Hollywood is, okay?”

Logan shook his head. “No. It’s not. Don’t forget, I used to do this too. And if I learned _anything_ from it, it’s that they can only take away who you are if you let them.”

“Fine, then I’ll let them!” Dak snapped. “Look, I’m not you, or Kendall, or whoever. I _want_ this. And hey, me being such a shallow soulless fake-person didn’t stop you wanting to bone me in the first place, remember? You talk a lot of smack about Hollywood, but every time its hottest rising star calls, you come running.” He raised his eyebrows coolly. “I guess I’m not the only one with a price.”

He knew he’d gone too far the second it was out of his mouth. Logan drew back, his jaw setting. “See, that is exactly your problem,” he said. “It’s not that you’re closeted, it’s that you want the whole world to revolve around your ridiculous closeted shenanigans. _That’s_ why you need to be on the cover of every magazine with models whose names you can’t even remember. _That’s_ why you meddle in other people’s love lives. You’re a miserable little person trying to convince yourself you’re not.”

He finally opened his front door. And no one had ever looked at Dak like that – not the most unimpressed casting director, not the haughtiest interviewer, not his angriest ex. “I used to feel bad for you, you know that?” Logan said. “Now I don’t even know why I bothered. Because right now? I don’t even _like_ you.”

And he walked into his house and shut the door, leaving Dak standing on the steps alone, buttercream crusted in his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I wrote this chapter before "Big Time Double Date" aired (this fic has been sitting on my computer for...a while, now). Why must Scott Fellows and I draw from the same well of hijinkery?


	4. i swear i'll do anything that i have to 'til i forget about you

“Hey Gustavo, where do you want me to put the wine?”

“When is Katie getting here? Can someone call her?”

“The turkey doesn’t fit in the refrigerator!”

“How many places should I set for tomorrow?”

“Can someone hand me the pastry cutter?”

“Katie says she’s stuck at the office and she’ll be here in an hour.”

“Seriously, can someone find a place for this turkey before I drop it?”

“Ew, are there going to be oysters in the stuffing?”

“What on God’s green earth makes you think I own a _pastry cutter?_ ”

“YOU GUYS, I NEED HELP WITH THIS TURKEY BEFORE – ”

_Crash!_

The largest Butterball Logan had ever seen slipped from Kelly’s fingers and skidded – thankfully still wrapped – across the kitchen floor, knocking Carlos and James over like ninepins. Mrs. Knight, who was showing Camille how to make stuffing, and Kendall, up to his elbows in flour and pie crust, skipped nimbly out of the way of the runaway fowl. Gustavo, who had never actually agreed to host Thanksgiving dinner at his mansion, let alone Wednesday night’s Thanksgiving preparations, looked ready to blow a gasket.

And Logan, sitting on a stool at the counter, sighed. Being surrounded by the chaos of his extended “family” was usually comforting, especially since he wouldn’t get a chance to go home and see his parents until Christmas. But despite a joyful reunion with Kendall, Carlos, and Mrs. Knight when he’d picked them up at the airport that morning, he couldn’t shake this funk he was in.

He was sure it was just the stress of disrupting his studying schedule so close to finals. And the fact that he’d have to spend pretty much his entire winter break working on med school applications instead of playing hockey with the guys. It had nothing to do with last Friday night’s date, or the fight he’d had with Dak, or the look on Dak’s face when Logan had slammed the door on him.

Or the fact that Dak hadn’t called him since.

It had been easier when he’d been angry. Sure, he’d broken six pencils, two mugs, and a protractor, but righteous indignation was a lot easier to deal with than this awful hollow feeling. He’d been _so sure_ Dak was going to call - not with an apology, because Dak never apologized. But he also never stayed mad, no matter how much they argued, and he was sure to call and use his most charming voice to try to get Logan to forget the fight had ever happened. Logan had come up with _several_ annotated lists of ways to tell Dak exactly where he could stick it.

Except Dak hadn’t called. And Logan didn’t even know if that meant it was over, because the truth was, it had never really started.

Mrs. Knight rescued the turkey and thonked it on the kitchen counter in front of him. “Logan, sweetie, can you go online and figure out how long I need to cook a fifteen pound turkey for? I’m planning on coming over here to start cooking at 5 a.m. tomorrow but I want to know if I should be here earlier.”

“No, you shouldn’t!” Gustavo called.

“Sure,” Logan said, trying to put some enthusiasm into it as he took out his phone.

He never could fool Mrs. Knight. “Is everything okay, sweetie?”

Kendall’s head snapped up, alert as always to any problems with his friends. He had a streak of flour down his nose. “What’s wrong with Logan?”

James opened his mouth and Logan quickly cut him off. “Nothing’s wrong with Logan! Logan’s just worried about his med school applications. I mean, my med school applications.” All he’d told James about the date with Chris was that they hadn’t hit it off, but he still didn’t need James theorizing about Logan’s love life with everyone listening in.

Neither Mrs. Knight nor Kendall looked convinced, but just then there was a honk from outside. Carlos peeked out the window. “Pizza’s here!” he called. “And Katie!”

To his great relief, Logan was forgotten in the general chaos that ensued – Gustavo yelling that he wasn’t going to pay for the pizza, Mrs. Knight and Kendall fussing over UCLA’s youngest sophomore/only undergrad talent manager, Gustavo paying for the pizza, Kelly and Carlos emptying the pudding out of Gustavo’s living room fridge to fit the turkey in, James and Camille trying to quickly finish the stuffing, Gustavo yelling at Kelly and Carlos for moving his pudding, James and Camille putting out a small kitchen fire. The usual.

Logan quietly brought in the pizza boxes, found plates and soda for everyone, and sprayed James down with the fire extinguisher. By the time the starstruck pizza boy left with Camille’s autograph and a dazed look in his eyes, the conversation had moved on.

“So I figure once I graduate this spring I’ll move back here and get a job at a studio. Maybe in production,” Kendall said, as if everyone didn’t already know he’d wind up working for Gustavo.

Carlos nodded. “And I’ll move back here and live in James’ spare room! And maybe get a job, too,” he added as an afterthought.

“Well, actually…” James glanced at Camille, who nodded. “…Camille and I were talking about getting a place together.”

“But you can still totally live in our spare room,” Camille said. “It’ll be like the Palm Woods all over again!”

“Well, if _that’s_ what you want I can get Bitters to come yell at you for making too much noise once a week,” Katie suggested.

Everyone laughed except Logan. Kendall shot a curious glance at him and Logan quickly shoved the entire crust of his pizza into his mouth to avoid answering whatever question Kendall was about to ask.

So James and Camille were moving in together. Logan was happy for them, of course, but…well, he had always assumed James would be chasing skirts well into his seventiess. Certainly not settling down with Logan’s ex-girlfriend before he was twenty-five!

When the pizza was finished Logan helped wash the dishes, then drifted into the living room. James and Camille were curled up on the couch together watching TV. _The Evening Show with Ray Fetterman_ was already on – Thanksgiving preparations had run late.

Logan sat down in an armchair next to the couch and sighed.

“Okay, what going on with you?” Camille asked. “You’ve been moping around all day.”

“All _week_ ,” James amended.

“Nothing!” Logan said automatically. “I’m fine.” He paused. “Hey, James, if you were gay, would you come out?” he asked. “Even if it might hurt your career?”

James smiled tolerantly, which was never a good sign. “Aw, Logan, I know you’ve always had a crush on me, but Camille and I are very happy together.” He gave Camille’s shoulders a squeeze.

“Wh—bu—I do not have a crush on you!” Logan spluttered.

“Sure you do. So do Carlos and Kendall.” James made a gesture as if brushing their invisible crushes away, the picture of blissful unconcern. “You learn to deal with it when you’re as handsome as me.”

Logan turned to Camille for backup. “Tell him I do not have a crush on him!”

She reached out and patted his knee. “It’s fine. I’m okay with it, just like James is okay with the fact that you’re still basically in love with me. We can all still be friends.”

“You’re still in love with Camille? How does that work? You’re, like, super gay,” Katie said, coming into the living room. Logan groaned and sank down in his chair, covering his face with his hands.

He heard footsteps and peeked between his fingers. Everyone else was moving into the living room, settling into chairs and couches. Gustavo stood in the foyer, glaring at them. “Why are you people getting comfortable? _Go home!_ ”

In answer, Katie picked up the remote and turned up the volume. “…let’s welcome your favorite heartthrob – and mine – Dak Zevon!” Ray Fetterman said.

The studio audience burst into applause as James’s voice singing “Remember the Memories” played over Dak’s intro. Logan kept his eyes glued to the screen, aware that people in the room were looking his way. Not everyone knew about his…encounters with Dak, or the full extent of them – he was positive that Gustavo neither knew nor cared, for example – but the guys and Camille did, and Katie surely had a pretty good idea. And he really didn’t want to make eye contact with any of them right now.

Dak trotted out onto the soundstage, waving to the audience and looking – appropriately – movie-star-handsome in a suit and tie. He shook hands with Fetterman and settled into the armchair next to Fetterman’s desk.

“Welcome!” Fetterman said, settling back. “Glad to have you on the show.”

“Glad to be here. Thanks for having me, Ray,” Dak said.

The camera cut in close to him, and Logan frowned. Dak looked – well, not his best. Distracted, or tired, or… _something_. Not his usual charming talk show self.

Logan kicked himself mentally. Dak was probably fine. Logan was just imagining things, wanting to believe that Hollywood’s biggest up-and-comer was as upset about their fight as Logan was. Unlikely, to say the least.

“So. Your new movie, _Remember the Memories_ , opens tomorrow. That must be pretty exciting,” Fetterman said.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure. I mean, I guess,” Dak said. He tapped his forefinger on his bottom lip, not looking at Fetterman.

“Rumor has it you’ll be attending the premiere with _America’s Hottest Model_ winner Turmeric. What’s the story there?”

“Yeah, well, you know me. Always dating the supermodels,” Dak said with a hollow laugh.

…Or maybe Logan _hadn’t_ been imagining things. He glanced at Camille, who out of everyone in the room probably knew Dak best, after Logan. She looked as confused as Logan felt.

Katie shook her head. “James, if you ever give an interview this bad, I’m dropping you as a client.”

“Katie Knight, we do not drop family as clients!” Mrs. Knight said. “Even if they do give terrible interviews.”

“Yes, you’re quite the ladies’ man, aren’t you?” Fetterman said. “Not the one-woman monster of your _Varsity Vampire_ days. Are you having fun playing the field, or can you just not find the right girl?”

The corner of Dak’s mouth turned up in the bitterest smile Logan had ever seen. “Not the right girl, no.”

“Well, let’s talk about the movie,” Fetterman said. “You play a soldier in World War II, and you actually went through basic training to prepare for the – ”

“I’m gay.”

The air seemed to vanish from Logan’s lungs. Gustavo’s living room was silent; the studio audience in Fetterman’s studio was silent.

Fetterman stared at Dak. “I’m sorry, did you just say – ”

“I’m gay.” Dak sat up a little straighter in his chair. He looked vaguely astonished, but he kept talking. “There. I said it. I, Dak Zevon…am gay.”

Now the studio audience reacted – lots of noisy chatter, a handful of cheers, a smattering of applause. Someone booed and Logan winced. But he couldn’t look away.

“Did…uh…okay, um. Well. Congratulations?” Fetterman said. He fumbled through his interview cards, dropped them, and apparently decided to let them lie. “Okay. Yes. Let’s talk about that. Is this…a new revelation?”

Dak laughed – sarcastic, but not the horrible empty laugh he’d let out before. “Oh God, no. Not since…what, second grade?”

“What brought on this confession, then?”

Dak glanced down and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I mean, someone…someone told me that I needed to be honest with myself. With the world. So…so I’m trying it. I’ve gotta say, it feels kind of terrifying.”

Logan’s heart jumped into overdrive from where it had been sitting stalled and sputtering in his chest. He’d gotten through to Dak! Enough that Dak had actually _come out on national television!_ They still had a lot of talking to do, but maybe…maybe Logan would break the rest of his rules. Maybe they could have a real relationship after all.

Fetterman nodded. “And this person, this someone who told you this…is this a _special_ someone?” He leaned in, clearly primed for some gossip.

“Ooh! I know! It’s Logan!” Carlos called out as if Fetterman could hear him.

The camera cut to another close up of Dak, who paused, then shook his head. “No,” he said. “I don’t have anyone special in my life.”

And Logan’s heart stuttered back to a crawl.

*

“Well, I’ll be darned,” Jett said as he peered over Dak’s shoulder to read the text message from Laura. “You should come out before every movie premiere!”

Dak gave Jett a look. “It kind of only works once, Jett.” Still, he understood Jett’s point. He hadn’t exactly _planned_ to come out of the closet on national television. It was just that Logan’s last words to him had been haunting him for the better part of a week. He’d spent most of his time alone split between devising withering putdowns and imagining what it would be like to _actually_ come out. Once the cameras were on him, the second half off his brain had unexpectedly taken over, and, well, there it was.

But even in his rosiest fantasies of how his uncloseting would play out, he’d expected certain consequences. Dozens of requests for interviews. A few million ScuttButts either applauding or denouncing him. To be the butt of jokes on late night TV for the next few weeks.

What he _hadn’t_ expected was that _Remember the Memories_ would blow through expectations to have one of the biggest opening weekends of all time. Dak’s confession had given the movie the kind of publicity endless run-of-the-mill press junkets and interviews couldn’t manage. And yeah, some people had decided to boycott the film – there was some Alabama-based historical reenactment society insisting that a gay man playing a World War II soldier was an insult to the veterans since, they maintained, homosexuality hadn’t been invented until 1987 – but for the most part, people were flocking to the theater in droves. The teenage girls were titillated, the action movie buffs seemed to feel that an explosion was an explosion, and everyone else, Dak assumed, was just plain curious. There was even talk of Oscars – production ones, for makeup and cinematography and the like, but still. That was more than _Varsity Vampire_ had ever gotten.

And now Laura had texted to let him know that _Remember the Memories_ had just spent its second straight week as number one at the box office, with no sign of slowing down. Dak knew he should be thrilled.

He sighed.

“What’s the matter?” Jett asked. “You look like someone just told you ugly is the new handsome.”

Dak took a minute to parse that. “No, no, I’m fine. I’m _happy_ ,” he said, forcing a smile onto his face. “This is _good_ news.” He sank back against his couch, feeling the cold leather squeak against his forearms and the back of his neck. The couch had looked good in the store, but he could never quite get comfortable on it once he brought it home. “I just…thought there’d be more.”

“More good news?” Jett asked. “How about this: I learned to raise my left eyebrow as well as my right. See?” He raised his eyebrows a few times, right then left then right, face contorting with the effort. “It’s like I’ve doubled my acting ability!”

“No! I mean, that is good news, but…I mean, with coming out. I thought there’d be more to it.” Dak shrugged. “After all those years of being in the closet, worrying someone would find out, sneaking around with Lo-- with guys. I guess I thought I’d feel… _different_.”

The truth was, he felt mostly the same after coming out that he had before. After all of Logan’s big talk about being true to himself, Dak felt vaguely cheated. He should’ve felt liberated! Defiant! Sure of himself and his place in the world!

Instead, he felt the same way he had before coming out: vaguely lost and depressed. And even _more_ hounded by the press. He wished he could talk to someone about being an out gay former teen idol, but the only one he knew personally wasn’t talking to him.

Jett thumped him on the shoulder. “My friend, you need Jett Stetson’s One Hundred Percent Foolproof Heartbreak Cure (Patent Pending).”

Dak sighed. “Jett, I’m not…” He paused. “Patent pending?”

Jett scowled. “Stupid US Patent Office takes forever to get back to you these days.” He brushed that aside. “The point is, you’re never going to get over Big Time Whatshisface if you just sit here moping on your couch.”

“I’m not _under_ Big Time…under Logan,” Dak protested.

“I know. That’s the problem,” Jett said with a leer. “You need to get under someone else. Or on top of, or…parallel to, or whatever. I don’t care how you choreograph it.”

Dak raised an eyebrow. “In English, please?”

“You need to get laid, my friend!” Jett said. “Come on, get out there! Hit the gay clubs! You’re Dak Freaking Zevon! You’re the second handsomest man in this room!”

They were the only two people in Dak’s living room, but Dak accepted what he knew Jett had intended as a compliment. Still, he raised the other eyebrow, proving that Jett didn’t have a monopoly on that particular skill set. “I can’t just go around screwing random guys, Jett. I kind of need to keep it on the downlow.”

“Why?” Jett asked.

Dak stared at him. He’d spent so long hiding his various flings that it was dumbfounding to realize that now…he didn’t have to. So what if the paparazzi caught him with a guy? Everyone already knew.

For the first time, he started to feel that sense of liberation he’d been looking for.

He stood up and clapped Jett on the shoulder. “You know what, Jett? You’re right.”

“ _And_ left,” Jett added, raising the eyebrow in question and pointing to it.

“ _And_ left,” Dak agreed. “Come on. We’re going to see how long it takes us to hit every single one of L.A.’s gay bars.”

*

“…after an altercation on the set, apparently threw the director into a lake. Varn Darn was unavailable for comment, but…”

“Could you turn that down?” Logan asked, glaring up at _Gossiptainment Now!_ which was blaring at what must have been top volume from James’ big screen TV.

Carlos gave him a playful shove. “Why are you _studying?_ ” he asked. “Give it a rest! Hang out with us!”

“Because unlike _some_ people, _my_ finals aren’t over,” Logan said, turning his glare to encompass his so-called best friends.

It was the second week of December. Kendall and Carlos were done with school for the semester and had celebrated by coming out to LA; they’d all head back to Minnesota together a few days before Christmas. But since Kendall and Carlos had nothing in particular to _do_ in LA, the two of them were just hanging out at James’ house, watching the idiotic gossip shows James was obsessed with.

Logan shouldn’t have agreed to join them. In fact, when Kendall had called and told him to come over to James’ place, Logan had said no. But Kendall had done that thing he always did, where he wheedled and cajoled and plied Logan with a mixture of bribery and guilt until Logan agreed to go along with Kendall just to shut him up.

He’d brought his books with him, though, because it was Sunday and he had a final every day for the next week. He might as well not have bothered. Between Carlos jostling him and spilling popcorn in his lap, Kendall making fun of the people on TV, James complaining every time a new story started and it wasn’t about him, and the TV itself, Logan wasn’t getting a whole lot of studying done.

Not that he’d been retaining _anything_ that well since Thanksgiving…

“And in other news, Dak Zevon might have come out of the closet last month, but that doesn’t mean he’s done breaking hearts,” the over-smiling woman on TV chirped. A publicity shot of Dak giving his most devil-may-care grin popped up next to her.

Kendall winced and reached for the remote, but Logan held up a hand. “Leave it.”

The screen cut to grainy paparazzi footage of Dak heading into a club with some blond guy on his arm. “Last night Dak was seen heading into Sausagefest, a popular L.A. nightclub and bratwurst emporium, with one date…and leaving with another.” The footage jumped ahead, according to the two a.m. timestamp, to show Dak stumbling back out of the club, his hands all over an African-American guy. Dak’s shirt was the same as before, but it looked like it might be inside out now.

Then, mercifully, it cut back to the gossiptainment “reporter,” pulling back to show her co-anchor. The shot of Dak with his tongue in the second dude’s mouth stayed frozen between them, though. “It sure looks like _someone’s_ trying to make up for lost time, Topeka,” he said.

Topeka over-smiled even more, somehow. “Well, Brett, can you blame him? Dak and his _Remember the Memories_ costar Jett Stetson have been spotted partying in West Hollywood every night – and early morning – for the past few weeks, and _Remember the Memories_ is still at the top of the box office. It was pushed out of the number one spot this past Friday by _The Ziggle Zaggles’ Great Adventure_ , but it’s still number two, and that ain’t bad.”

“No, it sure ain’t,” Brett said, overenunciating the word like he’d never heard it before. “And rumor is that Dak’s in talks with the producers of the new Hatman reboot, so it doesn’t look like the partying will stop any time soon.”

“Well, that’s good news for Dak, but I’m sure I’m not alone in wondering when Hollywood’s newest bad boy is going to settle down,” Topeka said, creasing her smile into faux-concern. “After the break we’ll speak with celebrity analyst Dr. Id, here to tell us how Dak’s bad boy behavior now springs from issues with his mother and a tragic childhood incident involving ladybugs. Stay tuned for – ”

“Shut it off,” Logan managed. Kendall clicked the power button and the screen went dark.

“I’m kind of curious about the ladybug thing,” James said.

Logan shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “They’re making it up, James. They _always_ make it up. Remember when they said you were addicted to huffing floor wax?”

James chuckled fondly. “Oh, yeah. That was a good episode.”

“James. This is about Logan, remember?” Kendall said.

Carlos whacked James with a throw pillow. “Yeah! Think of how crappy Logan must feel now that his ex-boyfriend is sleeping with like every gay dude in LA _besides_ him.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “He’s not my ex-boyfriend.”

Carlos frowned. “Well, then, you should probably dump him, because, uh, he’s cheating on you. Like, a lot.”

“He’s not my boyfriend either!” Logan said. “He was never my boyfriend. He was just someone I fooled around with for a while, and now I’m not. End of story.”

Kendall punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Good on you, buddy. Screw that guy! Not literally. Because he’s a jerk.”

“He is a jerk,” Logan agreed. “I don’t even care.”

“But – ” Carlos started to say.

“ _I don’t even care_ ,” Logan repeated, louder. “Now put something else on and stop bothering me, okay? I have studying to do.”

*

Dak pressed the phone to his right ear and stuck his finger in the left. “Say that again, Laura?”

“I can barely hear you,” she called back. “Where the hell are you? _Inside_ a boombox?”

Dak looked around. He was in the VIP lounge of yet another gay club - _Hombre Caliente_ or something like that. There was techno-salsa blaring from the dance floor and male go-go dancers shaking maracas on raised platforms sprinkled throughout the clubs.

Oh, and a guy whose name Dak had forgotten licking his neck.

Dak pushed the licker away and hunched over, as if that would help him hear better. “I’m out partying!” he told Laura. “Because I’m young and hot and famous and _out_ and happy about it! Totally and completely happy!”

“Yeah, well, you’re about to be happier, because I just closed a three-picture deal with Normer Brothers for you,” Laura said.

Dak froze. “Wait. You mean…?”

“That’s right,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “You’re the new Hatman, kiddo.”

_You’re the new Hatman._

It was the role of a lifetime. No, it was more than that – it was the reason Dak had _become_ an actor, the elusive pipe dream that had lured him to the screen. It was his chance to do what only five or so actors had done before him – to play Hatman, the greatest superhero of all time, on the big screen. To go down in history with his name inextricably linked to his own personal hero, the fictional character he loved most in all the world. Dak sat there in the techno-salsa club on an uncomfortable chrome bench and waited for happiness to overwhelm him.

Nothing happened.

“Dak?”

Dak shook himself slightly and plugged his left ear up again, focusing on Laura. “Yeah, I’m here. That’s…that’s great. That’s amazing!”

“You’re damn right it’s amazing,” Laura said. “They said your audition was fantastic but that they still weren’t really considering you until lately. Said you’ve got the billionaire playboy heartbreaker bad boy thing down. Looks like all that clubbing is good for something, right?”

Dak pushed his enthusiastic bench-buddy away from his neck again. “Right.”

“Anyway, I’ll fax over the contract tomorrow morning for you to take a look at. I just thought you’d want to know right away.”

“Definitely. Thanks, Laura.”

“Hey, it’s what I’m here for.”

The line went dead. Dak straightened up and looked at the guy sitting next to him. “I’m the new Hatman,” he said, trying it on for size.

The guy smiled, a sloppy seduction, and leaned in. “You’re the new _Hot_ man, is what you are.”

Dak rolled his eyes and pushed the guy away. He looked up to see Jett dance by at the head of a conga line, wearing a Carmen Miranda-style hat covered in fruit. “Hey, buddy!” Jett called with a wave.

Dak put his phone away. “Don’t you have a girlfriend? Why are you still going to gay clubs with me?” he called.

“Are you kidding? They don’t have hats like this at the straight clubs!” Jett called back, and danced away.

Dak picked up the drink he’d left on the table and sat back against the bench. _Jett_ was having a good time. And Dak had done the one thing that scared him the most, and been rewarded beyond his wildest dreams. Why couldn’t he have a good time too?

The guy next to him raised an eyebrow. “So…are we gonna make out or what?”

Dak glanced at him, then polished off his drink and put it down. “Yeah, whatever,” he said. It was better than feeling sorry for himself, after all.


	5. if you want it all lay it on the line

Logan was losing his mind.

Dak was everywhere he turned: on TV, on billboards, on magazine covers at newsstands, and all over the internet. Even when Logan was in his apartment with the TV and computer off, Dak still plagued him: Thoughts of Dak with other guys. Memories of how Dak had always made him want to laugh, even when he was being his most annoying. Dak’s voice as he told the world that there was no one special in his life.

He’d known he was lying when he told the guys he didn’t care, but he hadn’t realized how big a lie it was.

It wasn’t like Dak was Logan’s perfect guy even now that he was out. He was still self-involved and irresponsible and obsessed with Hollywood image making. And he still didn’t know a thing about hockey.

But he was smart and funny and really, _really_ good in bed. He remembered little things that Logan mentioned in passing, like his favorite book or how he liked his toast. And though it should have done the exact opposite, Dak’s easygoing, confident approach to life made Logan’s shoulders come down from around his ears when they were together.

Not that they’d ever _really_ been together, of course.

The only good thing about being this upset about Dak was that it helped to distract him from worrying about the email he’d gotten that morning from his neurobiology professor asking Logan to stop by during office hours. He actually passed Professor Cortex’s office before realizing his mistake and turning around.

The door was already open, so Logan knocked on the doorframe. “You wanted to see me, Professor?”

Professor Cortex looked up from his computer and smiled. Logan winced. That wasn’t a happy smile. It was an “about to break some bad news” smile. “Hi, Logan. Yes, why don’t you come in? Could you close the door, please?”

Logan did as he was told and took the chair across from Professor Cortex’s desk. “So…what’s up?”

Professor Cortex leafed through a file and pulled out a stapled bunch of papers. Logan recognized his own handwriting on them. His final.

Somehow Logan didn’t think Professor Cortex had called him in here to tell him he’d gotten a perfect score.

“I was grading your final this morning, and I noticed something odd,” Professor Cortex said. “Now, I know you’re very bright and very hardworking, so you can imagine my surprise when I realized that you got every single answer wrong.”

Logan made a high-pitched, dismayed noise.

“Not only that,” Professor Cortex continued, “but you put the _same_ wrong answer for every single question.”

Logan’s cheeks flamed as the professor showed him the first page of his final. Sure enough, he’d answered the same thing for every question: “Dak Zevon.”

“That’s actually pretty impressive, considering that this was a multiple choice test,” Professor Cortex said.

Die of embarrassment later, Logan told himself. “I’m really sorry, Professor Cortex,” he said. “It’s just been a really rough couple of weeks. Please let me retake the test. I’ll…I’ll do extra credit! Water your garden! Mow your lawn! Do you have anyone you need whacked?”

“Calm down, Logan,” Professor Cortex said, holding his hands up. “It’s fine. I’ll let you retake the final. I know this isn’t your usual behavior.”

Logan let out a tremendous sigh of relief.

“But I’m concerned about you,” Professor Cortex said. “I know LA can be overwhelming, but this kind of fixation on a celebrity isn’t healthy. Have you been to the counseling center?”

“Oh. _Oh._ ” Logan shook his head. “Yeah, no, see, I actually know Dak. We, uh.” He blushed again. “We kind of had a thing.”

Professor Cortex raised an eyebrow.

“No, we did!” Logan protested. “I’ve known him since I was sixteen. See, I was in Big Time Rush.”

Professor Cortex raised the other eyebrow.

“Really! Remember ‘Boyfriend’? _Your boy boy b-b-boy b-b-boyfriend?_ That was me! I mean, us!”

Professor Cortex wrote something down on a business card. “Here’s the number for the counseling center. You should really call them, Logan.”

“I was! I was in a boy band!”

“Logan.”

Logan sighed and accepted the card. “Yeah, all right.”

*

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” Logan asked.

“Because this jerk is making you so upset that you’re failing out of college, and you need to go tell him what’s what,” Kendall said firmly.

“Then why can’t I just call him?” Logan asked. “I mean, do we really need to do the whole treehat thing again?”

The four of them were crouched in the bushes outside of Dak’s gleaming, gated estate. All of them were wearing treehats, and Kendall had eyeblack under his eyes.

“If someone was calling _you_ to yell at you, would you listen?” Kendall asked. “No, you need to strike unawares.”

Logan gave him a skeptical look. “Are you sure you’re not just really bored?”

“Positive. Okay, now here’s the plan,” Kendall said. “First, we need to get over that wall.”

“I know the security code for the gate…”

“Where the cameras are?” Kendall asked, raising an eyebrow. “Be reasonable, Logan.”

Logan frowned. “I think ‘entering through the front door’ is pretty reasonable.”

Kendall ignored him. “James! Gimme a boost?”

“You got it.” James braced himself and linked his fingers, palms up. Kendall stepped into James’ linked hands and, with a push from James, scrambled up and over the wall, gangly limbs flailing. A minute later, he popped back over the wall, reaching his arms down to help the next person over.

“Me next!” Carlos called, and let James boost him up towards Kendall’s waiting arms. He dropped out of sight behind the wall.

Kendall looked at Logan. “You coming?”

Logan sighed. “I gotta get new friends,” he said, and stepped into James’ hands.

Once Logan was over, he and Kendall helped James, and soon they were all on Dak’s sprawling, perfectly-manicured lawn. The house itself sat some hundred yards off, all cool white stucco and terra cotta roofs, the front door hidden behind a long entrance way surmounted by a wrought iron gate, which was thankfully open. A moat formed a sparkling ring around the mansion.

The driveway from the front gate looped around to the garage in back of the house, while a paved footpath broke off and meandered towards the front door. Kendall led them in a wide arc away from the path, though, presumably to avoid any security measures.

“We’ll cut over to the front of the house once we’re opposite the drawbridge to the moat,” he explained as they crept across the lawn.

Carlos pointed at a small, moving figure coming around from the back of the house. “What’s that?”

Logan shaded his eyes and peered. “Oh, that’s just Dak’s dog Snowball. Don’t worry about him, he’s like a hundred years old.”

“Yeah, but if he barks he’ll alert Dak,” Kendall pointed out.

They watched warily as Snowball approached them with his stiff-legged, arthritic trot. He cocked his head, appraising them. Kendall pushed Logan forward.

“Uh…hey, boy,” Logan said, offering his hand to sniff. “Remember me?”

Snowball backed up and let out a single warning bark.

“Aw, hockey pucks!” Kendall muttered.

James pushed his way to the front. “Stand aside, boys. I’ve got this.” He grinned at them. “Music does have the power to soothe the savage beast, after all.”

“That’s ‘breast,’” Logan corrected. Carlos giggled.

James leaned in close to Snowball. _“People say I’m the life of the party because/ I tell a joke or two…”_ he warbled.

Snowball laid his ears back flat and growled.

James straightened up. “What, you don’t like Smokey Robinson? I can sing something else. How do you feel about dance pop?”

Snowball charged at James. With a yelp, James took off across the lawn, Snowball hot on his heels.

Kendall watched them go, then turned back to Carlos and Logan, rubbing his hands together briskly. “Well! That takes care of the dog. Shall we?”

They continued across the lawn, ducking and rolling whenever Kendall thought he saw a camera, occasionally calling encouragement to James as he looped by, Snowball panting after him. As they went, Logan tried to figure out what he was going to say to Dak when they got there. That he was sorry? That he _wasn’t_ sorry? That he was sorry he wasn’t sorry?

Once they hit the moat, they cut across to the footpath, which went over an old-fashioned rope-and-wood-plank bridge. Kendall led the way across it, with Logan right behind him and Carlos bringing up the rear. Once all three of them were on the bridge, though, it started to dip and creak ominously.

“Why is it making that noise?” Logan asked, alarmed.

“The rope’s fraying!” Carlos said, pointing to one of the support ropes that held the planks together. He grabbed the rope on either side of the fray. “Go!”

“But how will you get across?” Logan asked.

“Don’t worry about me, just go!” Carlos shouted.

“Come on!” Kendall grabbed Logan and hauled him off the bridge. Just as they set foot on solid ground, the rope Carlos was holding snapped completely, sending Carlos tumbling into the moat.

“Carlos!” Logan called.

Carlos splashed his way to the surface, kicking and spluttering. “Go on without me!” he called.

Kendall saluted him. “We’ll never forget your sacrifice, Carlos,” he said. “Come on, Logan!”

They raced for the gate at the long front entryway. As they approached it, something above them started to rumble. Kendall looked up. “The portcullis!” he shouted. “Hurry!”

They flung themselves through the open gate. Kendall’s treehat went flying. He landed hard in the entryway. Turning, he snatched his hat back just before the portcullis came crashing down.

“How about that?” he said, dusting the hat off and putting it back on his head as Logan climbed creakily to his feet. “You’ve got to be faster than that to get the better of Kendall Donald Kn—”

A trapdoor opened beneath his feet and he dropped out of sight.

“Gah!” Logan yelped, scrambling towards the trapdoor. “Kendall?

He thought he heard Kendall respond, but just then the floor started shaking. “Oh no.”

He looked up. At first he thought it was an earthquake, which nearly six years of living in California hadn’t acclimatized him to, but then he realized that the ground wasn’t moving. The walls were.

Towards him.

With the portcullis closed, there was only one escape. Logan shrieked and ran down the entryway towards the front door. With every step the walls loomed closer, until they were brushing his elbows as he ran.

He tripped and collided with the door, reaching up to grope for the doorbell. Now the walls were pressing on either side of him and showed no sign of stopping. He rang the doorbell over and over, banging on the door with his free hand. “Dak! Dak, please!”

There was the click of the door being unlocked. The walls stopped, leaving Logan pinned between them, on his knees against the door.

The door opened. Logan half-fell into the house. He looked up.

“Hey, it’s Big Time Whatshisface,” Jett said.

*

Dak was hung over. He’d been hung over every morning since he’d come out on TV, but this was a particularly bad one. When the doorbell started ringing like crazy, he groaned and pulled a pillow over his head.

Mercifully, the ringing stopped a minute later. But Dak had no sooner relaxed under his pillow when he heard Jett knock on the door and call, “Hey, Dak? Dak, wake up!”

Dak sighed and pushed the pillow away, then sat up. The motion set his head pounding, and he groaned and took a deep breath before standing up and staggering over to open the door.

“What,” he said.

Jett grinned broadly at him. It wasn’t fair. Jett had been too drunk to drive home last night, so he’d stayed in one of Dak’s many spare bedrooms, but no matter how much he drank, he never seemed to feel the ill effects in the morning. “Someone here to seeeeee you,” he singsonged.

Dak yawned. “If it’s Laura, tell her I’m dead.” He started to close the door.

Jett stopped him. “It’s not Laura.”

Dak would much rather have crawled back into bed, but he knew Jett wasn’t going to let it go until Dak came and saw who was at the door. Without bothering to put anything on over his boxer briefs, he followed Jett into the living room.

And there, sitting on his couch, was Big Time Rush: Kendall streaked with dirt and dust; James covered in scratches, his clothes torn and grass-stained; Carlos soaking wet and dripping on the leather.

And standing in front of them, Logan, looking flushed and scared but otherwise normal.

Okay, _now_ Dak kind of wished he’d put on clothes.

“What happened to you guys?” he asked, pointing to the three on the couch.

Kendall jerked a thumb at James. “Snowball attacked him.”

James flinched. “That dog is an animal!”

Kendall blinked and apparently decided to let that one go. “Carlos fell in the moat. And I fell through the trapdoor.”

Dak frowned. “Well, as glad as I am to know my security system works…why?”

“Logan needed to talk to you,” Kendall said.

Dak schooled his face into what he hoped was a neutral expression and turned to Logan. “You could have just called.”

Logan moved his mouth a few times before any sound came out. “I wasn’t sure you’d answer.”

“So you broke into my house?” Dak asked.

“Hey, you broke his _heart!_ ” Kendall retorted.

“Kendall, I got this,” Logan said.

“Yeah, _Kendall_ ,” Jett said. “I like the dirt. Good look on you. It obscures so much of your face.”

“Shut up, Stetson,” Kendall snapped.

“Yeah? You wanna make me?”

Logan glared. “Could you two please – ”

“Wait. I broke your heart?” Dak repeated, looking hard at Logan. Suddenly his head didn’t hurt as badly.

“I…” Logan looked around at the others, who were all eagerly leaning forward to hear his response. “Can we not do this here?”

Fair enough. “How about the patio?” Dak suggested, pointing to the glass French doors that led off of the living room. It wasn’t exactly total privacy, the doors being glass and all, but it was better than having this conversation punctuated by Kendall and Jett’s arguing.

They went out onto the patio and Dak shut the doors behind them. “Well?”

Maybe the patio hadn’t been a good idea, because it wasn’t fenced in, and Logan looked like he was ready to bolt. “Well, what?”

“Kendall said you wanted to talk to me. So talk.” Dak folded his arms and waited.

“Uh.” Logan rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “So you came out.”

“So I did.”

“Well…congratulations,” Logan said. “I mean, I didn’t exactly mean for you to turn into a walking West Hollywood stereotype, but baby steps, right?”

His tone was light, but Dak still bristled. “Look, if you broke into my house to yell at me for doing what _you told me to do_ , but not doing it in the official Logan Mitchell-approved way or whatever, don’t bother.”

“I’m not trying – ”

Dak cut him off, warming to his subject. “Because you know what? You were right. Okay? I’ll admit it. You were right. So if you’re here to say ‘I told you so,’ thanks, but it’s unnecessary.”

“That’s not – ”

“I _know_ coming out has been good for me, okay? My movie’s a hit, I’m in all the tabloids – hell, I’m the new Hatman! So thanks for the advice, but – ”

“I didn’t come here to argue with you about your stupid career, Dak!” Logan snapped.

“Yeah? Well, why _did_ you come? Because like thirty seconds after, as mentioned, _you broke into my house_ , you start criticizing my lifestyle choices, and I don’t have to take – ”

_“You said there was no one special!”_

Logan’s yell was so loud it brought Dak’s rant to a screeching halt. “What?” Dak asked.

Logan went bright red. He looked absolutely mortified. “On TV. When you came out. You said…there was no one special in your life.”

Oh. _Oh._ Something very much like hope uncurled in Dak’s chest.

“Well, maybe the one person I wanted to be with told me he didn’t even _like_ me,” he said.

Logan glanced at Dak, then looked away again. “That guy sounds like a jerk.”

Dak’s lips quirked. “He kinda is, yeah.”

“Well…you should forget about him,” Logan said. “Yeah. You should definitely forget about him.” He took a deep breath. “And go out with me instead.”

“You know I was talking about you, right?”

“I know! I was kind of going for a whole…thing, there.”

“Oh, no, I got it. It was cute, it worked.” Dak quirked an eyebrow at Logan. “So…public hand-holding, then? That’s what you’re asking for?”

Logan set his chin and nodded. “Yeah. Public hand-holding. I mean, I don’t need to be your red carpet arm candy, but…if I’m going to date you, I want to date all of you. Not just in private.”

Dak considered. Public hand-holding sounded pretty good to him. “I can do that.”

Logan smiled. Dak smiled back at him.

“PUT YOUR FACES TOGETHER!”

They both jumped. Carlos, James, Kendall, and Jett were all watching them, faces pressed to the glass doors, Kendall and Jett elbowing each other as they jockeyed for better positions. Carlos was the one who had yelled, and now he was grinning and pointing at them through the glass, smearing it with fingerprints.

“Go away!” Logan yelled back, making a shooing motion. “I don’t want to make out with everyone watching.”

Dak shrugged. “Hey. That’s the price of dating the biggest star in Hollywood, Mitchell.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t you start with me. There’s a difference between public dating and voyeurism, and I don’t – ”

Dak kissed him. Logan started to melt into the kiss, then pulled back. “You know, you can’t just kiss me every time you want me to stop arguing with you,” he said.

Dak smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.” Logan pulled Dak down into another kiss, a proper one this time. Dak let his arms slip around Logan’s waist and drew him in close, which reminded him that he was still only wearing his underwear. Maybe they could...

“Does this mean we’re gonna be in-laws now?” he heard Jett ask. “Because frankly, I require a higher caliber of looks from my family members. James, you’re okay.”

“You’re not _related_ to Dak!” Kendall protested. “And my face is fine!”

“That’s not what Jo said when – ”

“LOGAN!” James called. “Do you guys want to double date with me and Camille? The paparazzi will love it!”

“Wait, Jett’s _not_ related to Dak?” Carlos asked. “That movie said they were brothers in arms!”

Logan let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “This is only going to get more ridiculous, you know.”

Dak pulled back just far enough to grin at him. “We can handle it. I’m a superhero, remember?”

“Or a reasonable Hollywood approximation,” Logan said, grinning back. “But I like you anyway.”

That was good enough for Dak.


End file.
